


Look what you're doing to me (I don't mind)

by peppercake



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben is less of a shit than he usually is, Character Study, I have no idea how to tie a tie, Infidelity, M/M, Mild Language, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 09:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppercake/pseuds/peppercake
Summary: It's Callum's wedding day and he feels sick





	Look what you're doing to me (I don't mind)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Look what you're dong to me by BANKS ft. Francis & the Lights  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iN1Wa3jCEg4

_I'm really fucking doing this._

Callum clenched his fingers around the rim of the bathroom sink and just tried to breathe. _In and out, in and out_. That’s all he needed to do, then everything would sort itself out and it’d all be alright. He tried not to look at himself in the slightly fogged mirror above the sink. He focused on the mirror edges, where some of the backing had begun chipping away. The regular plops of water from the faucet sounded almost like a clock just counting down the seconds. To a marriage where he'd already broken god how many vows before the thing had even begun. 

The room seemed to crowd in further in tandem with this roiling thing that wanted to claw out of his stomach. He didn't dare closely examine the thing lest it took the opportunity to burst free and he couldn't tamp it back down. Dimly, he could just see the edges of it all. Anger at Ben for piercing through the false layers he'd encased himself in, seeing who he really was through it all. Anger at himself for letting it all go this far. Fear that any second, people other than Ben would look in his eyes and see, really see. Worst of all was the guilt, what was probably the core of the thing in his stomach. Guilt that he was living a lie and taking Whitney along for the ride. Whitney, who didn't need all this burden he'd been carrying. Beautiful Whitney, who deserved someone who could love her with everything. 

"Halfway some of us would like to use the khazi at some point. You're not the bleeding bride are ya?" Mick yelled from across the hallway.

Whitney had commandeered their flat that week for the wedding preparations. "It's bad luck to see me in the wedding dress before." She'd said with a giggle when he'd asked why she needed the flat to herself. "Besides, I want it to be a surprise, when you see me all dressed up on our big day." Then she’d pulled him in for a kiss he tried to enthusiastically return as he vaguely wondered whether she’d ever realise she initiated the kissing, the sex. Her mum had also come down from Milton Keynes for the week. From the few times he'd met Bianca, he hadn’t been sure whether the small flat would be big enough for the three of them.

"Sorry Mick, I'm just coming out now." He slowly unclenched his fingers from the sink and tried hard not to think about the unfortunate choice of words. As he stepped out of the bathroom, Mick stepped out of his bedroom clad in Linda's pink dressing gown.

"So how are you feeling? Big day and all that." Mick said, leaning on the banister with a grin.

"A bit sick to be honest." Callum grimaced as the words left his mouth, he hadn't meant to hit quite that close to the truth.

Thankfully, Mick didn't appear to read too much into it. "It's just nerves son," he said, striding over to clap Callum on the back. "everyone has 'em. I think it shows how much you care about the whole thing."

"Really?" 

"Well when I was getting married to me Linda the first time, I nearly threw up. Cos I didn't want to mess anything up, wanted it to be the best day for her.

You'll want to spill your guts out for most of the day. But when the vows are done and you become Mr and Mrs Highway, it'll all disappear. Then you'll wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place."

Callum tried to stretch his lips in the approximation of a smile, "Thanks Mick."

Mick gave his back another clap, "That's a good lad. Now go and go have your breakfast then get ready sharpish. You definitely don't want to be later than the bride." 

—

The rest of the morning passed by in a queasy blur. He had breakfast, which mainly consisted of him pushing his bacon around the plate until Shirley yelled at him for putting her off her food.

"Give the boy a break. He's probably bricking himself for his big day." Linda said with an eye roll.

"Doesn't mean he has to treat his sausages like that!" 

After struggling through a sausage, a bacon rasher and a few bites of toast, he gave up on finishing the rest of his breakfast, giving some excuse about wanting to get ready. With the air of a prisoner marching to his execution, he went up to his room to begin the next stage of this awful farce. His suit lay spread across bed, almost mocking him for having the temerity to still be going through with this. 

"I love Whitney. And that's all that matters." If he said the words enough times, maybe he'd even start believing them himself. With a heavy sigh, he stretched out his fingers for the shirt, crisped and starched within an inch of its life by Linda. Time to get ready for battle. No that was wrong. More like time to get his head metaphorically whacked off. 

He had the shirt and trousers on and was fumbling with his tie, when familiar callused fingers gently took the tie from his fingers. 

"You clearly haven't been to a secondary school with ties." Ben said, with his usual shit eating grin.

Not here not now. "You’re not part of the wedding party, you shouldn't be even be here.”

“Why, do you not want me to see you in all your wedding gear?” Ben said. “Does the bad luck thing count for the groom?”

Callum ignored his questions, “ How did you even get in?" 

"Through the front door like most people," Ben said with a roll of his eyes, like it was the most stupid question he'd ever heard. "Now turn around so I can do this up for ya." 

Callum’s mouth opened and closed with no sound coming out; he probably looked like an approximation of a goldfish. Ben had a scarily good skill of always getting the last word, although with him it was more like the last quip. .Reluctantly, Callum turned around to look at the last man he wanted to see but even more confusingly the only one he did. Both feelings warred inside him, adding to the already uncomfortable roil in his stomach. Ben stood behind him, fiddling with the tie he'd just removed , an inscrutable expression on his face. He was already dressed for the wedding. A satiny suit which swept in sleek lines over his body, its red colour contrasting nicely with his grey eyes. He'd applied some gel to his hair, holding it slickly in place. The sight of him dried Callum's throat up and made his chest ache. 

"If you came to change my mind you're-" 

Ben stopped him with a sharp movement of his hands, "Course I haven't. You're a grown man, I can't make you do anything." 

"So why?" 

"I just came to support you, like a friend would" 

Callum didn't know why Ben calling them friends set his teeth on edge. Okay that was a lie, he knew exactly why.

"I've also realised you're awful at doing up ties, so there's that too ." 

Despite everything, Callum let out a small laugh. "I'm pretty shit aren't I." 

"We can't all be perfect at everything. I mean obviously I'm already perfect but..." 

"Shut up Ben." 

They both giggled for a moment before straightened out the tie in his hands and they remembered the situation, the whole mess. 

"Okay, let me do this." Ben slid the tie around his neck and with deft, sure fingers began to tie it in a Windsor knot. Every time Ben's hands brushed against his neck, he couldn't breathe. He could barely stand to look the other man in the eye, so he stared down at his feet, comically clad in Spidey patterned socks. 

"All done," Ben said after what felt like an excruciatingly long time. His hands lingered on Callum's neck. "Look at me, Callum. Cal." 

When Callum was slow to respond, Ben tucked a thumb underneath his chin and lifted it up. They stared at each other for a moment. For Callum, looking properly into Ben's eyes was worse than staring into the sun. This thing between them hadn't been happening long enough for feelings strong as love to be there. But there where other emotions spoken by Ben's expression. There was longing there and waves of frustration. Behind all this was an undercurrent of pity, which was maybe the worst thing of all. 

"Are you sure about this?" 

"You said you ain't here to change my mind." Callum's hands clenched at his sides. 

"Memory like an elephant you." Was that bitterness he could hear in Ben's laugh or just wishful thinking on his part?

Ben's hands slid up his neck to cup his face, his thumbs making gentle circles into his skin. "We could've been good together you and me."

Despite his brain screaming at him to abort mission, Callum's body betrayed him. He leaned down and into Ben's touch, the movement pressing their foreheads together. 

Ben huffed a laugh and pulled them closer together. "I don't know what it is about you. But I keep wanting to come back and get to know you better. Its like it's a compulsion." 

Callum knew exactly what he meant. Ever since that night at the park, maybe even when he'd made the mistake of pinning Ben to the wall and staring at his lips or scratch that when they'd met for the first time and Ben's hand engulfed his in a warm handshake. It was like a string attached Callum to him and wherever Ben went, he had an urge to follow. Or was it the other way round? 

He hadn't realised they'd managed to get even closer until they breathed each others air. In and out, in and out. Ben's eyes drifted to his lips. 

"No we shouldn't-." Callum's protestations sounded weak even to his own ears, his mouth moving to Ben's even as he uttered them. 

There wasn't an explosion when they kissed, but there should have been given how hard Callum's chest started to slam against his ribcage. Both their breaths came out in desperate pants as their lips came together again and again. His brain seemed to have gone offline so his hands barely knew what to do with themselves. They flitted across Ben's body, briefly alighting on his shoulders, his back, his waist before landing on his face, almost a perfect symmetry to the other man's hands on his face. In contrast, Ben's hands knew exactly where they wanted to be. They hadn't moved an inch since he'd placed them there. 

"Callum, Callum, Callum." Ben murmured his name like a litany and he almost wanted him to keep saying it like that, possibly forever. A dim part of him wondered if they'd progress any further, fall into the bed that seemed to be getting ever closer. 

As if he'd heard his thoughts, Ben abruptly pulled away and Callum tamped down on the whine that threatened to escape due to the loss of contact. 

"I think we should stop here. Don't want to mess up the tie I spent ages on." 

The tie was probably the least of their worries. They looked a mess, like they’d just been seconds away from shagging. Ben's hair was mussed up, strands laying every which way. Callum didn't remember putting his hands there. His red suit jacket was half off his shoulder and the shirt half pulled out of his trousers. Callum didn't remember doing that either. He certainly didn't remember making the lovebite on his neck, already starting to purple. Ben pressed a finger to the bite, a melancholic look on his face. 

"Sorry about that."

"It'll fade in a day or two." 

Callum irrationally wanted to make one again whenever the love bite was in danger of disappearing. To show his hookups, his family, the whole bloody world that he belonged to someone. Then it'd never fade and there'd always be a reminder of all of this. It was selfish he knew. How could he give Ben a mark that implied ownership when he could never fully belong to him on the flip side? Especially after he said his vows later that day. 

"Halfway, the car's here. We told him 5 minutes" Linda called from downstairs. 

Crap, how long had they been at it? Swearing under his breath, he started to smooth out his hair. 

Bens hands stilled him, "No let me." In silence, he watched Ben tidy up his hair and put his clothes back in order. Watched he as he slid the facade back in place, so it was like the last few minutes had never happened. Then he fixed up his own clothes, shifted his shirt collar a tad higher so it obscured the love bite. Callum’s fingers twitched to pull down the collar down and bring the bite back into view.

"Perfect, good as new." Ben said.

"Thank you." 

"It's all very selfish on my side. You have know idea how bloody good you look in a properly done up suit." 

Callum felt his cheeks heat up and knew for sure his ears were probably blazing pink. Ben slung his arm over his shoulder and he hated how the friendly gesture almost made a mockery of their desperate kisses just moments earlier, "Now let's get you married." Ben gave him a weak smile, and Callum almost wanted to scream at him. Where was the Ben who said one thing then did another? Why wasn’t he pulling on his arm to make him stop this, despite his earlier words? He hadn’t expected him to give in so easily. Pathetic he knew. The other man wasn’t his keeper and like he’d said before, he was a grown man who could make his own decisions. So why did he still hope against hope, as they walked out of the bedroom and down the Vic’s stairs, that Ben would just once take the decision out of his hands? A part of him was sure that Ben just had to say the words then he’d stop it all, call Whitney and tell her he couldn’t do this anymore. 

Mick, Linda, Shirley and Tina met them at the bottom of the stairs, wide grins in place. Ben let go of this shoulder then, and gave him a gentle push towards the door, where the driver stood waiting. His stomach churned and churned and his feet felt like lead and he just couldn’t do this. He glanced back at Ben, who returned his look with a frown like he knew. His mouth worked and contorted, trying to form the words. It was just there on the tip of his tongue, if only his mouth would just cooperate and his throat didn’t feel so damn dry.

“Stop gawping in the doorway and get in the car Halfway.” Shirley cut through his attempts to stop everything, and like the plug being pulled in the sink, it all receded back down. Numbly, he got into the front seat, followed by the Carters clambering into the back. The car pulled off and he turned to watch Ben’s form recede from view.

He really wished he wasn't fucking doing this.


End file.
